


Duet, Date, They're Practically The Same Thing

by snarkstark



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - No Powers, BAMF Pepper Potts, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Clint is a gossip whore, College, Fluff, Happy Ending, IronShield - Freeform, M/M, Musicians, Mutual Pining, Mystery, Pining, Singing in the Shower, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers is a dork, Stony - Freeform, Tony-centric, Wooing, bromance and romance, cuteness, so is Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:12:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9140476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkstark/pseuds/snarkstark
Summary: Tony Stark was ready for a few things before his first day at the most prestigious musical college in the world - disasters, a coffee shortage, being late. He wasn't expecting the guy on the other side of his bathroom wall to start singing in the shower and didn't expect himself to join in. That was the first time he met Steve Rogers, and it definitely wasn't the last.Now, Tony wants to find his mystery shower duet partner, as well as wrestling the challenges college brings, even for a musical genius.





	1. First Day, First Duet

Tony yawned, stumbling his way to the bathroom and running a hand through his hair, which was sticking up all over the place. The room itself was relatively small, but considering he’d gotten a flat practically across the street from the most prestigious music college in the world, he wasn’t at all upset about it. He shared with his best friend, Rhodey, who was practically his brother, but by the time Tony got his lazy ass out of bed, his friend was already hitting the gym. 

Rubbing the sleep dust out of his eyes, he tugged off the clothes he slept in and turned on the shower. He yelped quietly at the cold, sulking as he waited for it to warm up, angry at himself for being too sleepy to realise the hot water wouldn’t come on straight away. Tony was a firm believer and enforcer of the ‘I can’t be held responsible for anything I do before my first cup of coffee’ rule, and this definitely fell under that. Luckily, no one was around to see him being a half-awake moron. He cautiously re-entered the shower stream, sighing with content as he felt himself start to warm up and wake up, a pleasant little combination that he was grateful to the early shower for bringing. It would be his first day of classes today, so an early start and looking smart were a hundred percent necessary. 

Tony had always possessed a way with music that no one else he’d met could master. He could write songs that made people cry, or changed their entire mood for the week. His voice was beautiful, and he could pick up new instruments faster than blinking, and it had been that way his whole life. It went without saying that constant practice helped him a fuck tonne, no matter how good your raw talent was, you simply wouldn’t go anywhere without honing them. Especially if, like Tony, said person wanted to get into the one and only Symphony School. They were good enough to have that name trademarked and shit. Students from everywhere in the world travelled to America to get a glimpse of a chance to be enrolled there, and it had been Tony’s dream since he was five years old. To get an acceptance letter, obviously, meant that he was absolutely ecstatic. Almost everyone who went to the college made their way into the musical world as heroes, and soon that would be Tony. 

He was just spinning off into another one of his little fantasies, playing at the Royal Albert Hall, or winning some grand award and grinning as he got another picture taken when a sound jerked him out of his fantasies. A voice, coming from the other side of his thin apartment walls. The layout of the place Tony lived was slightly unconventional; it was wider than it was tall and had two apartments on every floor. That meant that on the other side of Tony’s shower wall, there was someone else having a shower at that moment, apparently singing. 

And they had the voice of an angel.

It’s not like Tony hadn’t ever sung in the shower, he was sure that everyone who said they did was brave, and anyone who claimed they didn’t were just insecure. Seriously, who didn’t belt out their favourite song in the confidence of running water and steam? Not to mention the beautiful acoustics of a classic bathroom. 

Tony paused in his whimsical endeavours to listen hard, pleased when the voice got louder, they were clearly invested in the song. The voice was sweet and gentle but somehow conveyed strength at the same time. Like a statue. Beautiful yet unbreakable. It was clearly male, and Tony felt no shame in pressing his ear against the wall to listen close. He recognised the song, the dude was singing Elvis for fuck's sake. Despite only just waking up for real, Tony was a million percent certain that he could fall right back asleep with that sweet voice singing, 'Can't Help Falling In Love' right next door. 

He found himself humming along quietly, and as previously mentioned, he was definitely not responsible for anything he did before his first cup of coffee, so he started singing along. "Like a river flows, surely to the sea." He sang out. There was a pause on the other side of the wall, and Tony clapped a hand over his mouth, absolutely mortified. Who the actual fuck did something like that? He felt like such a creep.

Then, tentatively, the other voice continued. "Darling so it goes..." Tony laughed to himself and joined in with Angel for the next line, "Some things, are meant to be." He couldn't believe this was actually happening right now. It was utterly ridiculous and he loved it. They continued their song, becoming louder and more confident, starting to harmonise. Tony felt a tidal wave of disappointment when it was over, knocking on the wall cautiously. "Elvis? You're a dork." He called, wondering if he was still there.

To his delight, there was a muffled response, in a low and pleasant tone. "Says the guy who knows all the words." Tony laughed loudly, answering with a humoured, "Touche. Shit, I better go." He realised how long he'd spent in the shower.

"Damn, me too," Angel replied, sounding genuinely sad about it too. And didn't that do wonders for Tony's mood. He forced himself out of the shower and pulled on his clothes, being as fast as possible to avoid being late. Luckily for him, he had Pepper who was practically his older sister and had called him at six pm yesterday. She didn't even say hello, just listed, "Bag, dinner, early night, or I'm going to find out and kick your little ass," was all she said before she hung up.

Some might think that they wouldn't obey orders over the phone, from someone who was currently out of the state. Those individuals did not know Pepper Potts. So Tony swept up his pre-packed bag and fled the apartment, locking the door hurriedly and walking swiftly over the street towards the college, The genius took a deep breath as he stepped over the threshold, excitement bubbling up inside him like an erupting volcano. This was it. His dream was actually happening. He honestly couldn't believe it.

A strange thought occurred to him as he manoeuvred his way through the elegant corridors towards one of the Music Halls where he was sitting through some sort of assembly. Even the opportunity to listen to rules seemed exciting at this place, though he wasn't entirely certain he'd be good at following them. Following orders wasn't exactly his strong suit unless they came from very angry, capable red head woman. The thought that passed through his head was of Angel, which he had already christened the duet guy with. Surely, due to his voice and living situation, he went to the college too. He was filled with a determination to meet him in person; it just felt like something he had to do. And in a place where every room he passed was filled with voices, surely it wouldn't be too hard to find him. 

Tony swallowed any nerves and headed into the Music Hall, sliding into a chair next to a curly haired guy with glasses. He caught sight of the sheet music he was holding and his eyes lit up. "Is that Die Zauberflöte?" He asked excitedly. The boy looked vaguely surprised at being addressed and nodded. "It's beautiful." He replied sincerely, and Tony flashed him a grin. 

"And to think I was nervous coming here." He smirked, sinking comfortably into his seat, "This is exactly where I belong." The boy, Bruce as he later discovered, shook his head with a smile, and leant closer to him, caution in his eyes, anxiety in his tone. "What if we don't? What if we fail the exam at the first semester?"

Tony looked at him for a moment. "Don't even think about it. When has music ever been about exams for you?" He pointed out, nudging him gently. Before he could get a response, the Professor at the front of the room cleared his throat and a blanket of silence fell over the room. "It's started." He whispered.

"What has? You're strange." Bruce whispered back, amused. 

"Our story of success."


	2. 'Sorry, Wrong Room' My Ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has his first day and loves every second. He also sees a blond who looks like they have a lot to say to him. Pretty much more of Tony having the best time of his entire life lmao.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Hope you guys are liking this so far, I was wondering if I should do a chapter following Steve? Please leave a comment if that's something you'd like!

Tony listened attentively to the induction. It was probably the first time in approximately seven years where he had been completely resolved to follow every rule. By that, he meant that he was determined not to get caught doing anything, and maybe for once just try and enjoy himself with a non-self-destructive pass time. He had music, but aside from that, he didn't have many other nice hobbies. Tony was the least responsible person he knew, always doing something ridiculous, like drinking obscene amounts of alcohol or participating in reckless behaviour that made Pepper scream at him.

When the Professor was finished with a warm welcome speech and slightly less warm instruction about the rules, they were given timetables and maps, before being wished good luck and sent on their way. Like troops off to war, the new students filed from the room, the only sounds their footsteps and tentative murmurs, the sound of cautious friendships beginning as they ventured to their respective classes. 

After swapping timetables, Tony was delighted to discover that Bruce and he shared some classes, most importantly their first one. Even for someone who projected extreme confidence and never had much trouble finding companionship, the comfort of a familiar voice and face at his side as they walked into the class was almost a layer of armour. Even the classroom in this place was beautiful, instruments and other equipment dotted around in a messy elegance, miscellaneous stools and soft chairs, some of them already occupied. Looking around, everyone's faces seemed to be somewhere on a scale of terrified to elated as they waited for whoever was supposed to be instructing them for that class to make an appearance. 

It seemed like an age, when if fact they were simply early, before Professor Pym showed, but as he started to teach and set them some group work, likely so that they could break ice, Tony felt his nerves peter into nothingness. The piece they presented at the end of the class was like a patchwork of talent, music from different places painstakingly sewn together. Tony had never been prouder when presenting something, and the praise that they got for succeeding in the task gave Tony a kind of happiness that he’d never felt before.

He and Bruce left the class, along with a new addition to their group, Clint Barton. He was an absolute dick, and Tony related. Plus, once he saw past the rude and aggressive exterior, the guy was one of the most hilarious people Tony had ever been in the company of. It was so refreshing to be around people who were so comfortable with themselves, didn’t mind making outrageous jokes and standing up for themselves. Having been stifled by his Father’s life, Tony had been around floozy businessmen and their stuck up children his whole life. Even watching Clint aggressively yell, “I do so have a real bow and arrow you dickwad, I’ll shoot your dick off!” When someone dared to challenge his claim of having a real battle bow with blood on one of the arrow tips. Tony decided to believe it after that threat, wincing at the imagery it brought to his head.

The lack of continuous classes was a shock to the system after the strictly scheduled high school regime, and Tony realised he didn’t have another class until the afternoon. He was still welcome on the property, however, and the college had no end of practice rooms open to the students at practically any time. Bruce had his second class right away, but he and Clint made their way to one of the spare rooms, sharing a wide grin when they caught sight of the luxurious equipment that one small room hosted. Clint pulled out a pair of drumsticks from his bag, so Tony picked up a guitar since that would go nicely. The genius could play almost anything. “What d’you know?”

“Pfft, d’you want a freaking book?” Tony replied with a smirk.

“Ooh, gettin’ cocky, Stark. Okay, c’mon, Highway To Hell?” Clint suggested, gesturing to Tony’s AC/DC shirt and making an assumption. The brunet rewarded his new friend with a bright smile and fiddled with the amp. “Let’s go then.” It took the two of them a few minutes to find their rhythm, find out how both of them would slot together, and once they found it, the change was almost palpable in the air. The pair shared a kind of manic energy, a fire in the way that they played this song because they both loved it. 

Tony sang as Clint claimed that, “The windows aren’t strong enough for me to sing, I can only rap.” 

By the last few choruses, any nervousness had been wiped away completely and the two of them smashed it out. Scaring the shit out of him, the door burst open and a tall blond stumbled in as if the hallway was on fire. His eyes locked on Tony’s and a flush broke out on his cheeks, spreading all the way down to his neck. The genius was completely frozen, shocked at both how stunning the dude was and why he’d barrelled into the room. Clint, somehow (probably because he wasn’t gay as a rainbow), was immune to the spell and demanded, “What d’you want?” His tone was laced with impatience, and he was clearly ticked off at being interrupted when he was so in his element. 

The blond jerked out of his reverie and realised that he’d just been standing there, staring at Tony who was standing awkwardly and clutching his guitar with a similar expression. “Oh, uh -” There was hesitation as if he wanted to say something else, but instead he spluttered, “I’m sorry, wrong room.” And fled like a guilty criminal. 

It took about half a minute and a drumstick thrown (which bounced off the wall, then hit him in the small of the back) before the genius realised that Clint was repeating, “Tony!” Over and over again. “Your gay is showing.” He added slyly, holding out his hand for Tony to return his stick. The genius stuttered, excuses being forced out until he gave it up and groaned. “But he was hot.” He complained before they started to continue, slipping back into the song like divers sliding into the water. 

After they were done and had packed everything away, they headed to the cafeteria for some lunch. Tony was obviously distracted, his mind still on the bright blue eyes and flushed cheeks of the guy before. He was so gorgeous it made Tony’s fucking chest contract as if he had shrapnel surrounding his heart every time he thought about it. He hated the fact that in this huge college, the chances of running into him again was slim. 

The second class was just as wonderful as the first, and he hated having to return home. He was invited out a few times, but the brunet already had plans with Rhodey, just watching their favourite films and telling each other everything with a few buckets of ice cream. Pepper claimed that they were two girls most of the time, and Tony launched into a gender roles speech until she shut up and apologised. Tumblr, he discovered, was a valuable weapon. Casting one last look behind him, he left the school behind and returned to the apartment. “Honeybear!” He greeted happily, eliciting a completely fake sigh from his best friend. “Aw, you love me,” Tony said confidently, falling into his arms, extremely pleased to see the film and snacks set up. 

“So,” Rhodey grinned, taking a huge scoop and shoving it unceremoniously into his mouth, “Wha’ ‘appen’?”

“Dude!” Tony laughed, pushing him away, “You’re so gross.” 

Rhodey just smirked and mocked him, “Aw, you love me.” Yeah, Tony could get used to days like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do leave a comment if you'd like a Steve-centric chapter next, and let me know what you think! I really hope you're liking this.


	3. Steve Rogers, Dork Extraordinaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is a huge dork, but he really likes it here. Also, he spent five seconds in the presence of the hottest guy ever and he fucked it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter on Steve! It's not drastically necessary to the plot, so if you don't like reading about Steve it can be skipped! Hope you like it anyway, and I apologise if it's not so great, I'm better at writing Tony! Please comment, it makes me so happy!

Steve froze after he hurtled into the practice room, feeling a blush crawl down his neck. Well, this was awkward. 

He didn’t even know what he’d been thinking, all he knew was it was that voice! The one he’d heard in the shower the very same morning and followed it unthinkingly to reveal the owner’s identity. But what the Hell was he supposed to say now? ‘Haha, sorry. I know you were spending time with your friend but I heard you singing in the shower this morning and wanted to find out what you looked like. Well, see ya around.” He thought the fuck not. Steve came to his senses and realised that he’d been gawping like an absolute creep at the brunet in front of him. Not that he could be blamed, the guy was absolutely gorgeous. Deep brown eyes with long lashes, tanned skin and pitch black hair. He was looking back at Steve, clutching his guitar. 

After he finally spluttered out his shitty excuses, he fled the room and took off down the corridor, regretting everything. The first time that he meets the frankly adorable and clearly talented boy who lives one, extremely thin, wall away, he made a complete and utter twat out of himself and probably freaked him out to no end. His drummer friend, in particular, seemed particularly unimpressed by his behaviour. Steve trooped back to the courtyard where he’d came from in the first place to check out what the practice rooms were like, where he spotted Natasha. He had met the no-nonsense redhead that morning in their first class, her Russian music sent literal chills down his spine and he’d managed to summon the courage to introduce himself. 

They’d made immediate friends, to Steve’s great relief. Walking around like a total loner after the assembly was starting to make him feel like his dream wasn’t everything that it was cracked up to be. Having grown up in poverty, to start with the idea of attending Symphony was laughable, but he’d started working when he was twelve years old, starting with the paper rounds and working in a restaurant once he reached fifteen. Thank God he’d bulked up when he was fourteen, otherwise, he would have never been able to convince people to hire him despite his age. It meant that he didn’t have a single other friend apart from Bucky, and his other grades apart from music suffered a little bit, but his Ma understood that music was what he wanted to do more than everything else, and promised to support him no matter what.

Yeah, he hit the family jackpot and was a shameless Mommy’s boy.

It seemed surreal, the fact that he had finally made it to Symphony, and he didn’t know quite what to do with himself. He’d signed up for a little of everything and hoped for the best, really, and it certainly hadn’t been disappointing him thus far. He joined Natasha with a vague greeting, still deep in thought about his neighbour in all his beautiful glory. Apparently, he couldn’t have been more obvious, because Natasha just elbowed him with a smirk and asked, “Who’s you meet, lover-boy?”

“Huh? Me? Oh, uh, no one. Wh-Why d’you say that?” He stuttered hopelessly, a flush crawling down his neck. 

“It’s a good thing you’re musical, not a theatre kid.” She replied simply, making a ‘go on, spill’ gesture with one manicured hand and waiting patiently. Steve had neither the heart nor the balls to refuse her. “Just this really cute brunet. He has the voice of a… of a…” He tried to think of the right word.

“Sex God?” Natasha supplied helpfully, and he nodded unthinkingly.

“Wait, crap, I mean -” He tried to take it back, even if it was true but she just laughed at him. 

“Aw, it’s okay, Steve. I won’t tell anyone.” Her tone was light, but her eyes were serious, and the blond got the very intense impression that while she may be sly and smart, she could take a secret to the grave. It made him shiver. “You should be a spy or something.” He muttered, and she just grinned at him, which didn’t help to ease his nerves. Still, he felt a bridge of trust had been built between them and he welcomed it. 

The lessons throughout the day had been eventful, to say the least. Steve witness someone play ‘Scarbo’ while blindfolded, someone else play two guitars at the same time, and was a judge to what was probably the most intense rap battle he’d ever seen, leaving both participants in tears and resulting in a tie. By the end of the hurricane, Steve felt ready to collapse, but there was also this awakeness about him that he’d never felt before. Confused, but exhilarated, it saddened him to have to step back over the threshold. 

That night, he and Bucky went out to the local cafe and ate paninis.The staff there were of similar age to them, and the establishment was clearly playing off all the Unis around the place since they had a blackboard outside with the words, ‘refreshing freshman since 1996’ on it. They blabbered on about their day, Bucky saying how he’d spent the day with a guy by the same name as him, and Steve confessed about the mystery guy, although he glossed over the part about singing in the shower with him. For some reason that felt like a little secret between the two of them, whatever the brunet’s name was.

When they finally returned home, after the cafe had closed, Steve almost did something stupid like take another shower, but even he wasn’t that sad. Besides, he was tired, and the food was making him sleepy, so he pulled off assorted bits of clothing and collapsed face first into his bed, retreating under the covers. Until he realised he hadn’t phoned his Mom. 

To his lasting guilt, he almost didn’t bother, but the risks of her literally driving to his accommodation in case something was wrong was too high, so he had to crawl out of his nest and grab his phone. He barely even registered her questions, answering as truthfully as he could manage. After a gentle reprimand about calling so late (“You should be asleep!” He totally agreed) his Mom ordered him to bed anyway and hung up. 

Finally able to sleep with a clear conscience, he blacked out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Comments and kudos very much appreciated, it makes my day! Also, if there's any characters (or ships) in particular you want to see, let me know! Thanks! :)


	4. I'm Here For The Coffee (And Maybe The View)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony finds a nice cafe (it's nicer when he realises Steve likes it), and there's an assignment to be worked on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late af, I lost some confidence with this fic but it's back of anyone wants to read lmaoo.

"Listen," Tony sighed, slamming his tray down for dramatic effect, "We need to practice. Seriously, c'mon guys. Granted that we are extremely talented as individuals -" He tactfully ignored Cint's completely fake cough that sounded a lot like, 'show-off', "But apart from me and Clint none of us have had a proper jam session. We don't fit quite right yet." He took a drag of coffee, gesturing with his free hand. 

Sat around the lunch table was him, Clint, Bruce and Pepper. She was absolutely terrifying and gorgeous, causing Tony to lament his gayness. Ah, she'd made such a good girlfriend to bring home. He quickly shook his head to rid his thoughts of home and Howard and all that crap. How was he supposed to expect them to accept him if he couldn't even accept himself, after all? The strawberry blonde in question nodded her agreement, even though her eyes were tracking a dangerous yet beautiful looking red-head on the other side of the room. Natalie or something like that? Clint nodded and agreed, "Okay, but like I told you, idiot, the practice rooms are taken all of today and this evening. And I have some shitty equipment at my place but my roommate already fucking hates me. He switched the salt and the sugar and then laughed when I ate salty cornflakes! What the fuck man? His stupid little accent too, 'You didn't see that coming?' Ugh, I can't even -"

Bruce watched in amusement, while Tony stage whispered. "Do you think if we let the Pietro rant go on long enough it'll loop?" He got a breadstick to the head in retribution, which at least allowed him to say, "You guys can come to my apartment, it's right across from the university, has a music room." He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly scared of rejection from his new friends.

Instead, all he received were grumbles from the others about how lucky he was and a brief debate about timing. "As long as there's pizza, I'm down." Clint grinned at them. He could've wept with relief and happiness. 

The second day was fun, but a little harder for the others since they had a lot more theory-based classes. He and Bruce excelled, whereas Clint just wasn't the type for that kind of learning. It didn't help him to see the rests and beats on paper, he needed to pound them onto a drum. Luckily, he was sat close to the two who could explain things to him and explain it in a scenario he would understand better. Tony was enjoying the classes, not to mention keeping an eye out for the hot blonde. But no luck aside from a glimpse at lunch. 

The genius had a free period midway in the afternoon, but he decided to spend it alone. Of course, his new friends were above and beyond brilliant, but it wasn't as simple as just shedding his forced habits and jumping right in. He'd been sculpted and forced by Howard to embrace socialite habits, rarely getting to talk to anyone his own age his whole life. It meant that it was nice for him to take a break and be on his own for a little while. He found a nice little cafe with a funny sign, so ordered coffee and took a seat, lazily scanning through some sheet music for the practice later. He barely glanced up when the bell rung again. 

Wait a fucking second - Tony almost got whiplash looking back up when he realised that it was Hot Stuff. He was ordering tea (the heathen) and seemed to recognise him too since he flushed with embarrassment. The brunette wasn't willing to give up that easy, however, since he stood up and followed, sitting down on the same table. "Hey," he greeted, "Music room raider, right?" He teased as if he didn't remember perfectly who he was.   
"I am sorry about that," The other replied earnestly, looking a little panicked.   
"No, it's cool. It was actually pretty hilarious. Can I ask you a question? Make that two."  
"Shoot."  
"Okay, first, how are you so stunning? Oh, and second, what do you think of this piece? It's for an assignment." Tony asked casually, sliding the paper over the table.

The guy didn't flush as much as he expected, seemingly having found his feet. "Hm, you must already know given how gorgeous you are yourself. And, I'm not sure, I prefer the older stuff."   
"Okay, just beware of flirting with me." He warned, "I don't tend to stop when I see something I want."  
"Who says that I do?" Tony was suddenly very aware of how they were both leaning over the table and sat back reluctantly. 

"Maybe you're right. We could always take something classic and put a spin on it. I heard a lovely performance of 'Can't Help Falling In Love' the other day." The genius frowned a little when Blondie suddenly looked like he was dying to tell him something, but the expression was gone too fast for him to ask about it. 

"That sounds like a good idea. I'm Steve, by the way. Can't have you referring to me as Music Room Raider all year."  
"But I liked that name! I'm Tony."   
"It's a pleasure."  
"It sure is gonna be." The genius was unable to stop himself from replying with a wink, but he noticed the time and cursed. "I gotta go, I'll catch you around, Steve. Thank you for the advice." He drained the last of his coffee and gave his new friend a wave before exiting the cafe. (And if he marked the name in case Steve hung out there regularly, no one had to know). 

Rhodey cleared out of the apartment as soon as he saw the group of musicians at the door, giving him a hug and warning about, "One noise complaint, Tony, just one! And I'll throw your guitar out of the window, you listening?"  
The younger man had the sense to agree, even if he was doubting their ability to heed that warning. Thankfully, his (and maybe Steve's) idea to put a spin on a classic went down well and by the end of the night their version of 'Sweet Child O'Mine' was presentable at least, That was certainly progress, they still had half a week before it was due. His neighbour ignored the noise and by the time the crabby old women from the floor below finally got up to the floor, the others were already heading out. Mission success. 

He spent about fifteen minutes debating whether or not to call home. Tony knew that in Howard's eyes, calling was needy and not calling was ungrateful. Putting it off until tomorrow, he collapsed in bed and fell asleep, not having to check the time to know it was the early hours of the morning, and certainly not thinking about Steve. Honestly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos mean a hella lot to me, so please leave some below and tell me what you think! Thanks for reading. :)  
> L x


	5. Not Stalking, Wooing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is very talented at not-stalking Tony. He is also very talented at avoiding singing with him outside of his bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this feels like a filler I'm sorry but I promise there's some solid plot coming and maybe some light angst so please stick with me. :)

"Steve, I'm sure this Tony guy will find this whole creepy schtick very romantic, but you do know that you're stalking him, right?" Sam asked, raising his coffee to his lips to hide his obvious grin. 

"Hey! This is not stalking." Steve replied fervently, not taking his eyes off the coffee shop door. 

"You came to this coffee shop because you know Tony likes to come here at a specific time before school. Hell, Stevie, you probably know his coffee order."

"Black, three sugars, it's disgusting."

"Steve!" 

The blond flushed and averted his eyes from the door to look ashamedly downwards at the tabletop. "He's just,,,"  
Sam sighed loudly and rolled his eyes, "Gorgeous, adorable, charming, magnetised him, a sex God. I know. So why don't you just talk to him for fuck's sake?"  
"He's way out of my league, that's why. You've seen him around the campus, he just happens to be one of those people that are popular. He draws people towards him, naturally, he's a loud person. You can't miss him." Steve excused his behaviour for the fuckteenth time. 

"Buddy," Sam stated, standing up and grabbing his bag, "He's also the dork that stares at you during lunch and whines about you all the time, according to Clint."  
"Clint's a gossip whore, nothing he says is reliable." Steve replied matter of factly, "Now shut up!" He added with fervour when the door swung open and his favourite genius entered the vicinity. The taller man made a soft sound like one would make at a kitten as he admired the half asleep Tony order his drink, wrapping his hands around it like it was his closest possession. Sam totally ruined it by remarking, "You could probably kiss him right now and he'd think it was a dream or something, Now's your chance." 

Steve left the shop soon after, not wanting his not-stalking to make him late for class. 

After that day in the coffee shop, his crush on Tony had grown even bigger, until it was a borderline obsession (to Bucky and Sam's dismay). The biggest thing he needed to do was tell the other man that it was him he'd been serenading in the showers. But he was too nervous. What if Tony stopped when he realised that Steve just wasn't that interesting? It wasn't worth the risk. Only this morning, they'd sang, "Say Something" and it had taken every bit of his willpower not to just march over to next door and reveal his identity. 

He got some results back from a theory test he had been dreading, putting him in an already good mood since he had done way better than he expected. He stared proudly at his B+ since the whole theory thing was one of his least favourite parts. Music was an art, he liked to think, not a science. Steve looked upwards suddenly when there was an appreciative whistle, to see Tony Stark standing in front of his desk with a delectable smirk on his face. 

"Nice grade, Steve. This test was much harder than the last one, huh?" He asked conversationally over the scraping of chairs and the bell signalling the end of class. Rogers slid his eyes to Stark's own paper, which was in his hand and saw his A+. No surprise there. "Surprised you noticed." He grinned, gesturing to the perfect score. To his surprise, Tony blushed and hid his paper.   
"I guess." He answered non-comittedly. Was Tony... ashamed of his smartness? Steve must have been making some sort of confused face because there was an abrupt subject change.   
"Anyway, I realised I haven't really hung out with you since the coffee. We killed that assignment by the way. Do you wanna hit the practice rooms, hot stuff?" Tony asked and winked at him, even though the slight colour in his cheeks betrayed his nerves. 

As much as Steve adored the way Tony was standing and looking and breathing (God he was pathetic), sirens were going off in his head. Because if they sang together then Tony would know and if he knew, he'd want nothing to with Steve at all, and then Steve would go back to his miserable Tony-less life. And maybe they hadn't known each other long, but never in his life, had the musician felt such a longing for someone. Tony was just so wonderfully much; he was the brightest star, the loudest song, and Steve was falling fast. "Uh, I actually, um, have a sore throat right now," He lied, chest contracting when he saw the other's face fall, "But!" Steve added quickly, "To apologise for my shitty immune system, can I buy you lunch?" It was a shot in the dark, but he was willing to try anything. 

"Sounds good." Tony replied happily before the smirk passed back onto his face and he leant closer, causing Steve's heart to race inappropriately, "But I'm not kissing you if you're sick."  
"I- Tony- You, uh-" The taller man spluttered.  
"Joking, Steve." Tony leant back again, raising an eyebrow at the veritable tomato Steve had turned into.  
"Right, of course." He didn't dare ask if the sick part was a joke or the kissing. 

Lunch with Tony was a delight, even if Steve had to try extra hard to keep up with the fast-paced, complex conversations the other boy liked to start. It was all he could do not to just sit and stare like a love-sick idiot, actually. He was still cursing himself for acting like a stuttering virgin in front of Tony back in the classroom. Contrary to popular belief, Steve knew how to flirt, how to fuck, when he was interested. Apparently, he was just rusty on how to woo. That's right, Bucky would laugh at him, but Steve Rogers was going to woo Tony Stark, one step at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, and especially comments, fuel me. :)  
> L x


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